


one more time, loud as you can

by dicaeopolis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 3rd gym, Age Swap, Agender Akaashi Keiji, Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Kozume Kenma, IS THERE A CORRECT TAG FOR AGESWAPS, M/M, Slice of Life, Training Camp, ageswap, if furudate won't give us bokuroo backstory i'll write it myself goddammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7361620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicaeopolis/pseuds/dicaeopolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nekoma High first-year Kuroo Tetsurou attempts to catch the attention of Karasuno’s cool blonde vice-captain. Results are… Varied.</p><p>Also: Bokuto has it bad for his setter, and the two first-years forge a bromance for the ages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one more time, loud as you can

**Author's Note:**

> I HAD AN ENTIRE DOC OF AGESWAP HEADCANONS LYING AROUND AND WOULDN'T YOU KNOW KUROTSUKI WEEK CAME ALONG AND ENABLED ME. for days 1-2: age. thanks to [betsy](http://www.twitter.com/owlinaminor) for betaing and [megan](http://www.twitter.com/ohirareon) for enabling me in myriad ways

_Tuesday_

Kuroo stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. _“You_ go ask them.”

Dusk had fallen over the Shinzen grounds, but Kuroo could still see Bokuto’s yellow eyes, wide and urgent. _“Bro,_ I can’t do something like that.”

“Why _not?”_

 _“Because-”_ Bokuto gestured helplessly at the unassuming doors of one of the gymnasiums, simply labeled 3RD GYM. “Because _Hinata’s_ in there. C’mon, bro.”

“Bro, come on. When it comes down to it, he’s just another high schooler.” At the imploring look on Bokuto’s face, Kuroo relented a little and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Bo. You can _do it.”_

“How do you _know?!”_ Bokuto wailed. “You’ve only known me for two days!”

“Yeah, and in those two days I’ve learned that you’re powerful as _fuck,”_ Kuroo told him. Bokuto perked up a little at the praise, although his considerable eyebrows were still knotted with concern. “Go in there and impress him.”

“It’s - it’s just. _Hinata.”_ Bokuto hopped from one foot to the next, tugging on one hand with the other. _“Do you know how much I look up to him?”_

Kuroo deliberately exaggerated his sigh, just so Bokuto could know exactly how ridiculous he was being. _“Bro._ He’s _eight inches shorter than you.”_

“But he’s so much _cooler,”_ Bokuto groaned.

“Oh, for christ’s sake.” Kuroo linked arms with Bokuto and frog-marched him down the path towards the gym entrance, ignoring the semi-frantic scrabble of Bokuto’s feet on the asphalt as he attempted to resist. With his free arm, he reached out and pushed open the door. Inside the gym, four people paused what they were doing and looked up - Hinata Shouyou, Karasuno’s ace; Tsukishima Kei, Karasuno’s vice captain; Haiba Lev, Nekoma’s ace; and-

 _“Agkaaassshi?!”_ Bokuto squawked. “You’re - you’re practicing with - _with the-”_

“Bokuto,” said Fukurodani’s setter. “What are you doing here?”

Kuroo didn’t know much about Akaashi - it was only Tuesday, and this was his first training camp with Fukurodani. But from what he’d seen so far, Akaashi Keiji had been assigned to be Bokuto’s unwilling babysitter (babysetter?) on the grounds that they were the only one who could handle the tireless ball of energy and raw talent that was Bokuto, either on the court or off it. They were quiet, observant, and intelligent, unlike Bokuto, who - well, the way he and Kuroo had met on the first day of the training camp really spoke for itself.

* * *

_Sunday_

According to Lev, Shibayama, and Inuoka, Nekoma’s friendly rivalry with their neighbor school Fukurodani had lasted since before the three of them were even first-years. At the beginning of their first practice match of the week, third-years on both sides of the net had greeted each other with familiarity - especially Lev, who hurried to measure his height against that of their opponents’ gentle giant of a captain. Once the set started, it became quickly evident that they were well-matched. Fukurodani was an offensive powerhouse, but they met a considerable roadblock in Nekoma’s unbreakable defense. As they hammered away at each other, Kuroo carefully kept track of the chinks he could catch in their attacks - he might only be a first-year, but it was never too soon to start collecting receipts.

Most notable to him was Fukurodani’s only first-year starter, a gangly, energetic wing spiker named Bokuto Koutarou with hooded yellow eyes and a hooked nose. His floppy hair had clearly been dyed silver at some point, but there was a large black splotch at the center of his head where his roots were growing in. As far as Kuroo could deduce, the guy’s defense was only average, but it was the crushing power of his spikes that had earned him a place as starter. Even with three Nekoma blockers in place against him and Shibayama positioned perfectly behind them, his spikes slammed right through the block and ricocheted off the libero’s arms towards the sidelines, crushing in their power.

Yes, Bokuto was still pretty childish - Kuroo could see that in the way he bounced around his setter like an excited puppy after every successful spike, loudly praising himself and sideeyeing them in hopes of agreement. His technique was all over the place, his tactics were completely transparent, and he wasn’t even as tall as Kuroo. But even so, he was formidable for a first-year, and Kuroo couldn’t help his sudden nerves when the rotation placed him in the front row against Bokuto for the first time.

The setter had already been relying pretty heavily on Bouto, so Kuroo was on guard from the minute Inuoka served. The towering Fukurodani captain received and sent it right to the setter, and sure enough, Bokuto was already moving into position to spike.

 _“Agkaashsi!”_ he shouted as the ball hit the tips of the setter’s fingers. Kuroo was pretty sure that wasn’t how the person’s name was pronounced, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it - he was moving up next to Lev for the block. Bokuto bounded forward and launched himself into the air - Kuroo and Lev jumped - the ball came flying towards Bokuto-

And then Bokuto’s spiking arm, instead of hitting the ball, smashed down onto the crown of Kuroo’s head. White-hot pain slammed through his skull, and then suddenly Kuroo was staring at the ceiling of the gym, with dizzy white spots flitting around the edges of his vision.

He barely registered the concerned swell of voices around him and the scramble of sneakers from the sidelines and across the court towards him before Yaku’s face appeared over him. “Kuroo? _Kuroo!_ Shit, are you okay? Kuroo, talk to me.”

Yaku’s voice was sharp with concern. Kuroo might be dazed, but he couldn’t let an opportunity like that slip past. He mustered his faculties to grin up at the other first-year. “Worried about me, Yakkun?”

Yaku rolled his eyes and drew back. “He’s fine,” he called out to Nekomata. “But you should go to the infirmary anyway,” he added to Kuroo. “You might have a concussion.”

Kuroo slowly sat up, carefully pressing his fingers to the tenderness on his head. “Yaku, are you my mom?”

“Nope, I’m just worried that they won’t be able to catch any head injuries through your awful hairstyle,” Yaku snipped back without missing a beat.

Kuroo didn’t dignify that with a response, but he could still hear his teammate snickering behind him as he stood up and stalked off towards the door of the gym.

_One Hour Later_

Shinzen Academy’s tough old nurse had put Kuroo through a bunch of sensory tests and asked him about a million questions before ordering him to lie down for the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t that much of a hardship, since Nekoma had only had one more practice match before dinner, but even so, Kuroo was restless just lying there on the cot in the empty nurse’s office. So it was a pretty welcome distraction when the door banged open and a tall, gangly figure appeared in the doorway. “Kuroo!”

Kuroo blinked over at him, scrunching up his nose in confusion. “Bokuto?”

“You’re alive!” Bokuto Koutarou exclaimed. He skidded over towards Kuroo’s cot, sliding around on the tile floor like a clumsy puppy that hadn’t grown into its limbs yet. “You’re alive and you’re awake!”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” Kuroo watched the guy curiously. “Did you need something?”

“Well, you fell down, and then that short guy on your team said you should go to the infirmary. But then you _didn’t come back!”_ Bokuto paced around the cot, rambling and waving his hands around in distraction. “And I couldn’t get away until now because we had another practice match after that one, but I wanted to come say sorry, and also make sure you weren’t dead-”

Kuroo held up a hand. “Hey - hey, it’s okay, bro, calm down.” Per order, Bokuto stopped walking, but his worried eyes were still fixed on Kuroo’s face. “I’m fine, they’re just making me sit out until dinner. But dude, what happened?”

“What happened…? I _hit_ you - oh my god, Kuroo, are you okay? Do you have memory loss? Oh _no-”_

“No, no.” Kuroo bit back a smile, since the concern on Bokuto’s face was transparently sincere. “I mean like, your approach looked perfect. How did you get thrown off form like that?”

“Oh!” Bokuto brightened up again and plopped himself down onto the chair next to the cot. “I was distracted by your hair!”

“My-” Kuroo automatically raised a defensive hand towards his head. “What _about_ my hair? It’s not like I can _help_ it, okay-”

“It’s so _cool!”_ Bokuto interrupted.

Kuroo stopped short.

“Cool…?”

“Yeah! It’s all spiky, like you’re a punk or something!” Bokuto talked as big as he played, with aimless gestures and jumping eyebrows. “Like, I can _never_ get mine to do what I want it to, and I’ve _tried._ It looks weird, and it _always_ gets in my face when I’m playing. And yours just looks so _effortless.”_

Kuroo scrutinized his face for insincerity. When he found none, a slow smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “You know… I could help you with your hair, after dinner. We could figure out how to style it so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re playing.”

_“Really really?!”_

“Really, really,” Kuroo promised.

Bokuto banged his knee on the cot as he leapt back up with excitement. His yelp of pain mixed with Kuroo’s groan at the jostle.

“Ow, _ow_. Still injured.”

_Later That Night…_

“Oh my god.”

Bokuto’s tone was near reverential as he tilted his phone’s front camera to this side and that, examining his new hairstyle. Kuroo allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction - Bokuto really did look totally different like this, with his hair slicked backwards and up. For one thing, his eyes were actually visible now. Not that Kuroo was really one to talk on that front.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Bokuto fumbled for the little jar of gel and waved it around in Kuroo’s vague direction. “Can I borrow this?”

“Nope.” Kuroo shook his head. “It’s Inuoka’s. I told you, I don’t use product. Mine just sticks like this when I wake up.”

“Oh.” Bokuto deflated a little. “Well, I can sneak out to the convenience store and buy some tomorrow morning!”

“Sure.” Kuroo stretched out on top of his sleeping bag and put his hands behind his head. Bokuto was sitting cross-legged next to him, on Yaku’s sleeping bag. (He had voiced concern about using someone else’s space, to which Kuroo assured him that Yaku was so tiny he hardly took up any of it anyway.) “We can try other styles and stuff too, you know.”

“Really _really?!”_

Just then, the door to the Nekoma dorms slid open, and a slender, dark-haired figure stepped inside, pausing just within the doorway. “Has anyone seen - oh my _god.”_

“Akaashshhghi!” Bokuto pointed at his hair in excitement. “Do you like it?”

“What did you _do.”_ Akaashi sounded like they were being slowly strangled.

“Kuroo helped me style my hair! A _kaash_ , do you think it looks cool?”

“He did, did he.” Akaashi’s voice was flat, but their eyes spoke murder. “Well, it’s late. Coach sent me to find you, it’s the first-years’ turn for the baths in a bit.”

“Okay!” Bokuto hopped to his feet, tackled Kuroo with a rib-crushing hug, and left him wheezing for breath as he dashed out. Akaashi went to follow, but paused at the door and turned back towards Kuroo. They raised two fingers to their eyes and pointed them at Kuroo, and then sliced their hand across their throat in an unmistakable warning gesture before they followed their kouhai.

But it was too late. The deed was done, the friendship was forged, and Bokuto Koutarou’s hairstyle was, quite literally, cemented in place.

* * *

_Tuesday, again_

“What are _you_ doing here!” Bokuto yelped. “You’re practicing with - with the Nekoma and Karasuno _aces!”_

Back next to Lev, the Karasuno vice captain raised a dry eyebrow. “You hear that, Hinata? I’m invisible to the kids these days.”

“It’s cause you’re so skinny,” Hinata explained. “They can’t see you when you stand sideways.”

“I spent some time training with Tsukishima-senpai at the training camp last year,” Akaashi said to Bokuto. “And he invited me to practice with this group again tonight. But that doesn’t answer _my_ question; what are you doing here?”

Bokuto appeared to have lost his capacity for speech.

“Well,” Kuroo said, and gave Bokuto a meaningful look. When that flew right over his friend’s head, Kuroo kicked him in the shin. Bokuto skittered sideways, and then burst out,

_“We want to practice with you!”_

The gym was silent for a moment. Then, Tsukishima repeated, “You want to practice with us.”

Akaashi looked abjectly mortified. “I’m - I’m deeply sorry, Tsukishima-senpai, I can bring him back to the Fukurodani dorms-”

“No, it’s okay.” Tsukishima came up next to them, examining the pair of first-years with an unnervingly keen gaze. Kuroo shifted from one foot to the other under the sudden scrutiny. He had met Karasuno’s vice captain a few times before, at cats versus crows practice matches, but they hadn’t really interacted - except on one occasion after a game when Kuroo, watching Hinata and Inuoka take out their impossible excess energy by roughhousing in the effort to mess up each other’s hair, had expressed aloud his amazement that his captain’s hair could get even spikier than it already was. Tsukishima, off to the side, had commented that people whose hair was its own dimension didn’t have room to criticize anything. Kuroo had huffed off - but not quickly enough to miss Tsukishima’s snickered, “Ah, youth.”

Instead of making fun of Kuroo’s hair this time, Tsukishima just asked, “What positions do you two play?”

“I’m a middle blocker, and Bokuto’s a wing spiker,” Kuroo supplied, since Bokuto seemed pretty incapable of saying anything coherent at the moment.

“WE WOULD LIKE TO PRACTICE WITH THE COOLEST ACE,” Bokuto blurted out, immediately proving Kuroo’s observation wrong in the worst possible way.

“Me?” Lev put a hand to his chest. “Bokuto, you only had to ask-”

“Not you,” Kuroo told him. “Hinata.” He nodded over at where Bokuto was staring at Hinata with eyes so starry they could have their own solar systems.

“Gwahhh?! You think I’m cool?!” Hinata’s eyes widened, and then he planted his hands on his hips and grinned up at Bokuto. “Of course I’m cool! I’m super cool!”

“You’re _really cool,_ Hinata-senpai!”

 _“Hinata-senpai,”_ Hinata repeated to himself, and made a noise like a delighted washing machine. “C’mere, Bokuto, you can come practice spiking with us!”

“Oh, no,” Tsukishima mumbled.

“You too, Rooster-kun!” Lev called to Kuroo. He came up behind Hinata and planted one hand in his tousled orange hair. Hinata swatted it away without missing a beat. “Come learn blocking from the ACE!”

“Can you stop giving me weird nicknames?” Kuroo asked. But he followed Bokuto over to the net, preparing to join Lev and Tsukishima in the block.

“Wait, before you do that.” Tsukishima pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger. “We’ve _been_ practicing blocking. By which I mean, these two-” he nodded at Lev and Hinata- “have been practicing spiking and switching off in the block with me. But with you two, we have enough for some three-on-three.”

“Three-on-three?” Kuroo glanced over at Bokuto. “Sounds good by me. What about you, bro?”

Bokuto nodded so fast that Kuroo was struck by mild concern for his neck.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” asked Akaashi, looking a little worried. “I’m not sure if we’re supposed to play outside of matches-”

“Of course it’s okay!” Lev scoffed. “Nobody told us it wasn’t, did they?”

“Yeah! Let’s do things we can’t do during the day!” Hinata declared, and Bokuto made a strangled noise of excitement to demonstrate his agreement.

Akaashi sighed.

* * *

Tsukishima, Hinata, and Kuroo ended up opposite Lev, Akaashi, and Bokuto, despite Kuroo’s mild confusion about creating a team entirely of middle blockers. Bokuto fired off the first serve, Kuroo bent his knees to receive it, Tsukishima stepped up to set - and the rally began to stretch on. One spike would slam through a block, only to be received by the third member of the team. Another would bounce off its block, only to be received and sent up to the setter again.

Kuroo focused as best as he could, but his attention was at least half occupied by his two temporary teammates. In his experience, Inuoka, Lev, and Shibayama were pretty close with each other, but they had _nothing_ on Hinata and Tsukishima. The two of them orbited each other without even taking their eyes off the ball - calling out terse commands without turning their heads, Tsukishima’s hand catching in the back of Hinata’s jersey to steer him into position for a block, Hinata bumping Tsukishima’s arm with his shoulder to indicate some unknown message too quickly for words. It was all Kuroo could do to keep up.

As Bokuto received - with difficulty - one of Hinata’s spikes, Akaashi was moving with absolute focus. Kuroo mentally braced himself for the next toss - which was spinning up towards Lev. He jumped - just as Tsukishima and Hinata slid into place next to each other with the ready ease of years of practice.

Kuroo caught up a split-second later - and the block launched itself upwards. Their timing was impeccable, but Lev’s pale green eyes flashed towards Kuroo as his arm whipped through the air - and when he smashed the ball down, it was right through Kuroo’s forearms. Kuroo landed, wincing with pain - he’d seen Lev’s power in action before, but it’d never been turned on _him._ Behind him, the ball thunked down on the floor.

Across the net, Lev’s face was the picture of condescension as he let out a quiet “ _heh”._

Hinata was standing stiff, nearly vibrating with energy. “We’ll get the next one!” he growled.

Lev grinned. “You can try.”

The wave of intensity that rolled off Hinata hit Kuroo like a swell of smog. He couldn’t see Hinata’s face from behind him, but on the other side of the net, Bokuto’s eyes widened and he startled back a few steps. Akaashi’s face didn’t change, but they caught hold of one hand’s fingers with the other, twisting them in anxiety.

“You two,” Tsukishima cut in. Hinata, reluctantly, dragged his scowl away from Lev and turned it on his vice captain. “Chill.”

Hinata held his stare for a moment, then dropped it and went to collect the ball to send it back to Bokuto. Meanwhile, Tsukishima put one hand on his hip, apparently unaffected by the face-off between the two rival aces. “Kuroo - come over here.” Kuroo stepped over towards him, a little nervous. “That block - did that feel like normal form to you?”

“...Yes?” Kuroo offered, too confused to attempt anything but the truth.

Tsukishima hummed. “Well, it looked like he was going to break your forearms off. Where do you think your power should be focused?”

Kuroo furrowed his brow, considering. “…Um…In the tips of my fingers? So I can-”

“-block as high as possible,” Tsukishima finished, nodding. “Right now, it’s in your shoulders, way below where the ball hits.” Tsukishima held his own arms up to demonstrate. Kuroo scrutinized the pose carefully - the stiffness in his forearms, extending all the way up past his wrists and into his fingertips. “Think of the block like a bridge. If it’s only fixed in place at one end, it falls apart when there’s pressure on the other. So instead-”

“Like this?” Kuroo stretched his arms up too, copying Tsukishima’s form.

“Right.” Tsukishima put his arms down, looking slightly taken aback. He examined Kuroo closer, intrigue blooming in his eyes. “Try that this time. Akaashi,” he called across the net, “send your next toss to Bokuto.” Bokuto brightened up at the suggestion. “It needs to be predictable this time, and that string of licorice over there isn’t.”

“I’m not _predictable,”_ Bokuto protested - to no reaction except a quiet snort from Akaashi.

“Tsukishima-senpai, you seem pretty used to running practices,” Kuroo observed. Lev, the string of licorice in question, tossed the ball up in the air and bumped it up to Akaashi.

Tsukishima glanced sidelong at him. “I don’t run Karasuno’s, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s Yamaguchi’s job.” Kuroo recognized the name of Karasuno’s captain - a slim, kind-faced guy with six piercings in his right ear and a glint of something steelier in his eyes. “But I’m used to helping him out with the horde of troublemakers. Now focus.”

On the next spike - despite what Tsukishima had said about three-on-three, this really _was_ turning into blocking practice - Lev’s spike was slowed significantly by the block, but still managed to smash through his hands - a one-touch, not a kill. Kuroo dropped down to the floor and glanced back at Tsukishima.

“Better,” said Tsukishima. “But you still aren’t extending your arms as high as you can. Act like you’re shrugging your shoulders up to your ears.”

Kuroo’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “I don’t think I can-”

“Your arms are long,” Tsukishima cut him off. “Are you going to make use of it or not?”

Kuroo met his eyes for a moment, then dropped his gaze and nodded. Before he went to serve again, though, he asked, “Tsukishima-senpai?”

“Mm?”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but - why are you doing this?”

Tsukishima straightened up, fixed Kuroo with that piercing gaze. “Playing volleyball?”

“I mean-” Kuroo shifted from one foot to the other, already squirming under Tsukishima’s stare like a bug on a pin. “Helping me. Our teams are rivals, aren’t they?”

“I’m gathering information on all your weaknesses to use them against you in the future,” Tsukishima explained.

“No, you’re not.”

Tsukishima sighed. “No, I’m not. But you’ve got potential.”

“But it’s potential that could be used _against you,”_ Kuroo pressed. “Why-?”

“Because-” Tsukishima rocked back onto his heels, gaze shifting off to the side, then back to Kuroo. “Ah, how do I put this…” Around the two of them, the other four players paused to watch and listen too. “Volleyball… It doesn’t start or stop when you’re at practice or in a game or at training camp. We might be opponents on the court, but off it, we’re both just volleyball players. It’s not just a club - it’s something that we share, that we love to play the game. But that game is nothing without worthy opponents. Pushing each other to be better - it’s in our mutual interest.”

As Kuroo mulled that over, Tsukishima picked up the ball and moved back to serve. “Anyway, that’s all beside the point. Let’s play.”

“He’s really intense about this, isn’t he?” Kuroo whispered to their other teammate.

Hinata smiled like a secret and put a finger to his lips. “Tsukishima likes to pretend he’s all cool and aloof. Don’t tell, cause I think it’s supposed to be a secret or something, but - he cares more than anyone else.”

One more spike - and although Kuroo managed to stop Lev’s block this time, it slammed down outside of the sideline. By now, he didn’t think twice before looking to Tsukishima for advice.

“Your outside arm.” Tsukishima jerked his chin at the arm in question. “Rotate it - like-”

“-to direct the ball in-bounds-?

“Yeah, you’ve got it.”

Kuroo nodded, and then looked up to see the rest of the court staring at the two of them.

“You’re sure you only just met each other?” Lev asked. “Because you’re finishing each other’s sentences.”

Kuroo and Tsukishima looked at each other, and Kuroo shrugged. “Pretty sure?”

“It’s just weird blocker talk,” Bokuto dismissed them airily.

Lev shook his head. “No, I don’t get it either.”

“That’s because you’re not smart!”

 _“What!”_ Lev cried. “Tsukishima, you’re a bad influence on our kouhais!”

“Maybe it’s just the truth,” Tsukishima offered. “Besides, Kuroo is a quick learner.”

“Tsukishima, why are you being so _nice!”_ Hinata complained. “You didn’t compliment _me_ like that when I was a first-year learning to block.”

“That’s because you _weren’t_ a quick learner. You survived on reflexes and rage.”

_“And my jump!”_

“You don’t need to remind anyone about that, you literally never shut up about it. Kuroo, it’s your serve.” Tsukishima’s step was quick and clipped as he strode back into position.

Kuroo served, and the game was back on. Bokuto was still as energetic as ever, Lev as quick, and Akaashi as shrewd. But Hinata and Tsukishima were in their groove now, and with Kuroo dead focused on his blocks, they were a formidable trio. Set, spike, block, receive - the sequence jumbled itself as it repeated, but their team didn’t break its rhythm. When Lev landed after his fourth block-out in a row, he huffed in frustration and announced, “This is _not_ an even matchup.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have riled Hinata up,” Tsukishima suggested.

“It’s not just _that!”_ Lev glowered through the net. “It’s you and Hinata - you’re way more synced up than me with these two owls, or even them with each other.”

“Are we?” Tsukishima drawled. He didn’t smile, but Kuroo caught the self-satisfied glint in his eyes.

_“Yes!”_

Tsukishima shook his head. “You’re wrong about that. I can’t even claim to understand Hinata. My job is just to take advantage of the shadows while he steals the spotlight.”

“How do you two do that?” Kuroo interjected, some of his bewilderment bleeding through into his voice. “It’s like you guys are sharing _thoughts.”_

The court went quiet for a moment. Tsukishima and Hinata shared a long look, and then Hinata tucked the ball under his arm and reached up to rub the back of his neck. When he started talking, his voice was surprisingly serious.

“A spiker and a blocker - they’re two sides of the same coin. Because spikers block and blockers spike, but neither can really shine without the other.”

“We’re the sun and the moon,” Tsukishima agreed.

Bokuto’s eyes widened, and he glanced across the net at Kuroo, eyebrows jumping in excitement like a frantic squirrel.

“Especially when you’ve been around each other this long,” Hinata went on. “The better you know each other, the more smoothly your team works. When you’ve been playing together since you were first-years, you can’t help but know what the other’s going to do.”

By now, Bokuto was gesturing wildly between himself and Kuroo. Kuroo bit back a smile at the enthusiasm on his friend’s face.

“And the more you play together, the harder it is for your opponents to get anything through you,” Hinata finished. He glanced up at Tsukishima, who met his smile with a face of utter apathy.

“Don’t get emotional, it’s just practice. He is right, though,” he added to the others. “You’ve just seen firsthand how well a spiker and a blocker can work together, if they’re in harmony.”

“Like us!” Bokuto finally shouted at Kuroo, apparently unable to restrain himself any longer.

Kuroo reached under the net and patted his arm. “Bro, you know we’re on different teams, right?”

_“Still!”_

“Well, that’s enough of that,” Tsukishima announced. “Hinata, it’s your serve-”

“Um…”

Tsukishima paused at the interruption of a new voice, and six sets of eyes looked towards its source - two girls, framed in the doorway of the gym.

“Hey, Kaori!” Bokuto waved at Fukurodani’s senior manager, a lanky third-year with a ponytail and freckles. “What’s up?”

“Hey, kiddo,” she greeted him. At her side, a younger girl with copper-colored hair and lidded eyes stuck her tongue out her tongue at Bokuto. He made a grotesque face back. “I don’t know if you guys are keeping track of time or anything, but… The dining hall is going to close in twenty minutes, so, unless you wanted to skip dinner-”

“WE DON’T WANT TO SKIP DINNER,” Bokuto yelped. He was halfway to the door before he skidded to a stop and stared back at the rest of the practice group, face drawn with strife. “But-”

Hinata waved a hand in the air. “Go ahead! We’ll play again later this week.”

Bokuto’s screech of excitement could probably be heard all the way back in the Shinzen dorms.

* * *

_Wednesday_

Nekoma didn’t play Karasuno the next day. Kuroo couldn’t help but be relieved - not only did Karasuno have a crushingly strong starting lineup, between the powerful third-years, their prodigy of a second-year libero, and a couple of promising first-years - but they were exhausting to play against. Nobody ever really knew what they were going to do.

But Nekoma _did_ play Fukurodani. And this time, Kuroo was _counting down_ the rotation until he hit the block against Bokuto, because he knew, when he jumped to block, that he could stretch his strength up into his fingertips - extend his shoulders up around his ears - angle his outside arm in-

Bokuto’s spike thunked down onto the Fukurodani side of the court.

He grumbled noisily as Kuroo landed. Inuoka thumped Kuroo’s back in congratulations, and involuntarily, Kuroo glanced across to the next court over, where Karasuno was playing-

And startled with surprise. Tsukishima was watching him with his cool, sharp gaze. As Tsukishima met Kuroo’s eyes, he nodded - the slightest motion, but Kuroo’s heart was fluttering embarrassingly as Nekoma’s lineup rotated and Kenma served.

He risked another glance over at Karasuno’s court. Tsukishima was _still watching him,_ and Kuroo could feel his ears growing hot - but _why-_

Tsukishima turned back to his own game, and as he shifted to stretch his arms, his training jersey rode up to expose a _sliver_ of pale skin.

Realization hit Kuroo even harder than the chance ball that Bokuto accidentally sent back over the net, which clunked down on his gobsmacked head.

“Uh - nice receive!” Yamamoto called as Shibayama dove to pick up the ball. Kuroo shook himself back into focus, but there was no shaking off his sudden epiphany.

_Oh._

* * *

_Thursday_

Kuroo was sandwiched between Yaku and Kai at dinner when he felt a tap on his left shoulder. Instead of turning, he leaned all the way back and tilted his head to see none other than an upside-down Tsukishima Kei giving an unimpressed look to Kuroo’s strange posture.

(Honestly, it was unfair that any one person be able to look good at _this_ angle.)

Kuroo hooked his fingers around the edge of the bench so he could hold his pose - with Tsukishima looking at him like that, it was a matter of pride. “Sup?”

“Sit up,” Tsukishima instructed him. When Kuroo just smirked up at him, he huffed a short sigh - but the twitch at the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “Hinata and I want to practice in the third gym again tonight. You can come, if you want.”

Next to him, Kuroo could sense Yaku stiffening with surprise. He hurried to respond before Yaku could say anything. “Sure - are Bokuto and Akaashi coming too?”

Tsukishima nodded over towards the other side of the cafeteria. “Akaashi said they were tired, so I sent Hinata to ask Bokuto.”

Kuroo grinned. “So, they’ll both be there.”

Tsukishima nodded, cheeks suspiciously tight. “Precisely. Also, you might as well bring Lev. Hinata needs someone to take out his height envy on, and if it’s not Lev it’s going to be me.”

Kuroo risked releasing the bench with one hand to point towards the next table over, where Lev was rambling on to Onaga, probably about birds or something equally inane. “He’s right over there.”

Tsukishima shook his head. “You misunderstand. I’m asking you to tell him so that I don’t have to speak to Lev more than is absolutely necessary.” Just then, Kuroo’s one-handed grip gave out, and Tsukishima neatly stepped out of his way as he toppled down to the floor with a muffled screech. Tsukishima smiled a tranquil smile down at Kuroo’s jumbled pile of limbs. “I hope your hair cushioned that fall. Well, see you later.”

It didn’t make any sense, seeing as he’d just been insulted in about six different ways, but Kuroo found himself grinning at Tsukishima’s retreating back. He twisted himself up into a sitting position, and only then noticed Yaku’s and Kai’s curious looks.

“You know Karasuno’s vice captain?” Kai asked.

Kuroo frowned up at him. “Why do you sound so suspicious?”

“It’s just,” Yaku said carefully, “We’ve never seen you interact with him before this week, and then suddenly it turns out you guys are close friends-”

“What?” Kuroo hopped up and took his seat on the bench again. “Why does everyone keep saying that? We’ve only been talking to each other for a few days.”

“Oh.” Yaku seemed a little nonplussed, which was a nice change. “Well, I like him.”

“Thanks for your blessing.” Shit, _cover_ \- that didn’t sound nearly as sarcastic as Kuroo had intended it. “But be honest, you’re only saying that because he made fun of Lev.”

“That’s a baseless accusation,” Yaku retorted. “I like him because he made fun of _you.”_

“Yaku,” Kuroo told him, “kiss my ass.”

“What ass?” Yaku shot back.

Kuroo’s mouth dropped open. “Yakkun, that was _below the belt.”_

“You can’t wear belts, they don’t have anything to hold themselves up on.”

 _“Et tu, Kai?!”_ Kuroo cried out. “Dammit - _Yaku, stop laughing!”_

* * *

Lev and Kuroo were the last ones to the 3rd gym that evening, entirely because Lev had insisted on bugging an uninterested Kenma about the Pokemon game they were playing for a solid half an hour, and then lost track of time and couldn’t find his sneakers when it came time to leave. When the two of them finally entered the gym, the rest were already practicing - Akaashi tossing against the wall, Bokuto sending serves across the net, and Tsukishima and Hinata standing in position to receive them. The four of them paused and looked up at the sound of Kuroo’s and Lev’s voices.

“Look, you can’t just _bother_ them like that. They just want to play their game in peace, can’t you let them?”

Lev rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Rooster-head. I was bothering them for a full year while you were back in junior high, and it went fine. Hi, everyone!” he added to the other members of the group, who had abandoned their other activities and were heading over to the pair of Nekoma players.

“Yeah, and they complained _to me_ about you the whole time.” Kuroo crossed his arms. “They’ve been playing plenty of volleyball during the day. Give me _one_ good reason they can’t have this time to themself.”

“Because they enjoy it!” Lev answered. Kuroo scoffed in disbelief, but he plowed onwards anyway. “They _like_ it when people seek them out to spend time with them. Even if they pretend otherwise.”

“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t include _you.”_ The other four had converged around them by now, watching their bickering in open curiosity.

“They would’ve told me to fuck off if they really wanted to and we both know it.” Lev flapped a dismissive hand at Kuroo. “Ah, you just don’t get it. It must be tough, still being in diapers…”

“We’re only two years apart!” Kuroo protested. Lev just laughed harder. _“I’d_ never treat a kouhai like that,” Kuroo grumbled to himself. Bokuto patted his shoulder in sympathy.

“If you two are done arguing,” Tsukishima said, “we were thinking of doing some more three-on-three.”

“Only I’m going to be on Bokuto’s team this time!” Hinata added, coming up next to Tsukishima and tucking himself under his teammate’s arm. “So I can help him with spiking.” Kuroo glanced at Bokuto, who looked like he was about to achieve flight.

“And the two of them need a setter more than we do, since they’re all pretty much useless without one,” Tsukishima continued. Hinata attempted to move away from his side, and Tsukishima clamped his arm down to trap him there, ignoring his teammate’s wriggling and complaints. “So it’s them with Akaashi, and you and me with, unfortunately, Daddy Longlegs over there.”

“Don’t call me daddy!” said Lev, apparently unbothered by the “unfortunately”.

“You’re really not one to talk about anyone being insect-like,” Kuroo dared to point out to Tsukishima.

Tsukishima’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second, and then narrowed. “You. Respect your elders.”

Kuroo couldn’t hold back his grin. There was something incredibly satisfying about beating Tsukishima at his own game. “Even Lev?”

“Not Lev,” Tsukishima amended. “He doesn’t deserve it. So, it’s Owls versus Cats. Because they have two Fukurodani, and we have two Nekoma.”

“What about the crows, though?” Bokuto piped up. “There’s one of each on each team.”

Hinata grinned, showing all his teeth. “We’re omnivorous.”

Kuroo glanced at Tsukishima, who lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “What he said.”

“Hey,” Lev spoke up. “Are you going to keep going with your weird metaphors all night or are we going to play volleyball?”

_Two Minutes Later…_

“Um…” said Akaashi.

Lev tilted his head to one side quizzically. “What is it, Akaashi-kun?”

Akaashi glanced over at Bokuto and Hinata, then across the net at Lev, Kuroo, and Tsukishima. “Isn’t this… A bit uneven?”

Bokuto was pretty tall, and Akaashi wasn’t short either. But combined with Hinata, and across the net from the trio of giants…

“Height-wise, I mean,” Akaashi clarified to Lev, who was still clueless.

“Don’t mind!” said Hinata, the shortest of them all. “We’re stronger.”

“Fighting words,” Tsukishima observed.

Hinata just grinned at him. “You bet they are!”

“Bring it!” Lev called from the back of the court, and fired off his first serve.

Bokuto received first, and Akaashi sent their first set of the evening up to Hinata. Unfortunately for them, Tsukishima didn’t even have to hesitate before launching himself up to block. His long fingers curled neatly around the ball and slammed it down onto the Owls’ side of the net before any of them could so much as move to dive for it, leaving Bokuto and Akaashi standing there like a pair of gaping wax statues.

Hinata and Tsukishima landed in unison, and Tsukishima smiled across the net. “That’s one point to the Cats.”

“No _fair!_ You only know what I’m going to do because we’ve been on the same team for so long!”

“Knowing your opponent’s style inside out doesn’t make it any less of a point.”

“That’s _cheating!”_

“It really isn’t.”

“Ugh - _whatever.”_

Lev went to serve again - but Kuroo didn’t miss the brief, whispered exchange between Hinata and Akaashi. Sure enough, on the next toss, Hinata leapt to spike again - and then slammed the ball up through Lev’s reaching fingers.

 _A wipe,_ Kuroo’s mental dictionary of volleyball terminology supplied. Tsukishima’s face twisted in annoyance. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“One touch!” Lev called - and Kuroo swiftly slid out of bounds to position himself under the falling ball. He cursed to himself as it bounced haphazardly off his forearms and flew back over the net - he really did have to get better at receives.

“Nowhere,” Hinata answered Tsukishima smugly.

Tsukishima’s eyes slid over towards Akaashi, who was biting back a smile. _“You.”_

“I can’t say I’m sorry, Tsukishima-senpai,” they responded. Back behind them, Hinata received the chance ball, and Kuroo and Lev darted over to block Bokuto’s spike. Unfortunately, Bokuto’s spiking arm was as strong as ever, and he smashed the ball right through Kuroo’s arms and down to the floor.

As Bokuto hooted in victory, Tsukishima came up next to Kuroo. “Hey, Kuroo - don’t banzai block.”

Kuroo tilted his head. “What?”

“You know-” Tsukishima stretched his arms up as if to block, but then spread them to either side, leaving a wide space in between. “Banzai.”

“Oh.” Kuroo ducked his head and casually wished he could sink into the floor.

The game went on neck and neck - the two teams were well matched. Hinata was familiar to Tsukishima, but Akaashi was an unexpected factor, and Hinata was adapting quickly to his new setter. The Cats had the advantage of height, but in terms of raw power, Bokuto tipped the scales in the Owls’ favor. But the balance shifted towards the Cats as Tsukishima caught on to Bokuto’s spikes - gradually at first, and then faster. Kuroo kept a close eye on his senpai, mimicking his form as best as he could - but there was no way he could follow the spin of Tsukishima’s thoughts as the cleverest middle blocker at the training camp faced off against Bokuto’s crushing raw power.

It was after the third kill block in a row that Bokuto landed with frustration written all over his face - and alarm flashed in Akaashi’s eyes. As they hurried to shore up Bokuto’s mood, Kuroo turned to Tsukishima, the undisputed leader of their three-man block. “Hey, how do you keep doing that?”

Tsukishima took of his glasses to rub the lenses clean on his shirt. “He’s not much of a challenge. Powerful, yes, but a well-timed block can erase brute force in a second.”

Kuroo nodded, thinking hard. “And Hinata’s different?”

“It pains me to admit it, but Hinata can actually think sometimes. That one, too.” Tsukishima nodded at Lev. “He’s not particularly intelligent, but he’s a total wild card. With Bokuto, you always know what he’s going to do.”

On the other side of the court, Hinata was explaining the same thing to Bokuto, although not in as many words. He hopped from one foot to the other like an excited terrier, waving his hands around for emphasis. “You just gotta figure out how to do it so your opponent can’t follow you! Like, instead of just _wham,_ you gotta move like - like _swish!_ And _fwaah!”_

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Hinata, those kinds of explanations don’t make sense to anyone but Kageya-”

“No, no, I get it!” Bokuto interrupted. He made a seemingly random gesture with his hands, and Hinata’s eyes lit up. “Like, _whoosh!”_

 _“Yes!”_ Hinata jumped straight up in delight. _“Exactly_ like whoosh!”

Tsukishima stared at the two of them, then across the net at Akaashi. “Do _you_ understand what they’re going on about?”

Akaashi shook their head. “I don’t even understand Bokuto normally.”

“What about you?” Tsukishima asked Lev as Bokuto and Hinata continued to make excited noises at each other. “You’re part of the idiot brigade too.”

“Nope!” said Lev. “Hinata’s just fucking weird.”

Tsukishima sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kuroo?”

“Maybe they’ve developed a dialect all of their own,” Kuroo offered. “Like how some cultures communicate exclusively in clicks and whistles.”

“That’s the first plausible theory I’ve heard in the past three years,” Tsukishima muttered. “Alright, then,” he said more loudly to Hinata, reaching one long arm across the net to plant his hand on top of Hinata’s head. “Stop that. We won’t even get through one full set tonight if you keep rambling.”

“Tsukishima, you need to chill,” Hinata complained - but he _did_ move away from Bokuto and into position.

“It can’t be helped,” Tsukishima told him. “There’s only two people with any sort of captain’s authority in this room, and Akaashi doesn’t deserve to have to deal with you two. Lev, nice serve.”

“Thank you, Tsukishima-senpai,” Akaashi murmured as Lev moved back to serve.

“Try it like _whoosh_ this time,” Hinata told Bokuto. “Akaashi, you too!”

Akaashi nodded, face drawn with concentration as Lev served. Hinata received, and passed the ball up to the setter. They stretched their arms upwards to set - and then suddenly, a hand caught in the back of Kuroo’s t-shirt. He startled at the smooth, velvety words breathed directly against his ear: “When I say _now,_ shift over to the other side of the court.”

Kuroo jerked a nod and pretended that the entire right side of his neck wasn’t prickling with goosebumps. He moved up next to Tsukishima and Lev at the left side of the court, where Bokuto was making his approach - crouched down in preparation to jump for the block as the ball hit Akaashi’s fingertips -

 _“Now,”_ Tsukishima hissed, just as Kuroo caught sight of a dangerous gleam in Bokuto’s hooded eyes. Bokuto stopped short just before he reached Akaashi, and, in the space of a second, turned on a dime and shot across the court to jump up and spike at the other end of the net. Akaashi tossed the ball to meet him, and he slammed it down with the full force of his spiking arm-

Right into Tsukishima’s waiting hands. The ball thunked down onto the floor, and Bokuto’s cry of disappointment mixed with Lev’s confused indignancy back on the other side of the court.

 _“Tsukishima!_ You _knew_ he was going to do that?!”

Tsukishima’s lips curved up in a tiny, smug smile. “It’s not too much of a leap when you’ve been watching Hinata do it for the past three years. “To be fair,” he added to a disgruntled Bokuto on the other side of the net, “it would’ve worked on anyone but me.”

 _“I_ didn’t figure it out!” Lev complained.

“That’s because you think with your spiking arm,” Tsukishima explained.

Lev gave him a dirty look. “Well, why didn’t you _tell_ me? You told _Kuroo.”_

Tsukishima hummed. “See, I like Kuroo more than you.”

_“You only met him a few days ago!”_

“Yes,” Tsukishima agreed. “Whereas I know _you_ far better than I’d like.”

Kuroo silently willed away the heat in his face. Just because Tsukishima had said he liked him didn’t mean anything - plenty of upperclassmen said things like that about their kouhais -

Then he made the mistake of looking across the net at Bokuto, whose huge eyes were fixed on Kuroo’s _very faintly_ pink cheeks.

 _You-_ he began to mouth.

Kuroo frantically shook his head. _No-_

_You LIKE him. Oh my GOD-_

Kuroo slashed his hand across his throat in an attempt to convey what words couldn’t, but it was no use. Bokuto’s eyes were bouncing between him and Tsukishima with all the subtlety of a steamroller.

And then a cold chill scurried down his spine as Bokuto’s stare shifted from boggled to…

_Scheming._

“WE SHOULD KEEP PLAYING,” Kuroo spluttered out before Bokuto could do something inevitably terrible. “WE SHOULD PLAY MORE VOLLEYBALL.”

 _“Yeah!_ It’s my serve,” Lev chimed in. Kuroo had never been so glad to hear his annoying voice. “And I’m going to get my fair block in this time!”

The game went on. But Bokuto’s gaze burning a hole in the net told Kuroo, plain as day:

_This isn’t over._

* * *

_ Friday _

Luckily, Kuroo managed to avoid Bokuto’s questions for most of the next day, since Fukurodani and Nekoma didn’t have any matches against each other and, at lunch, Kuroo stuck to his teammates like a barnacle. But Bokuto’s unblinking stare whenever he caught sight of Kuroo was getting kind of creepy, and by dinnertime, when Bokuto approached him, he was ready to relent.

On the first day of the training camp, different teams had huddled together at their separate tables, talking quietly amongst themselves and eyeing up their opponents with clear wariness. The second morning, Bokuto had wholly disregarded the unwritten rule to hurry over to the Nekoma table and plop down next to Kuroo. Without missing a beat, he started going on about the hair gel he’d bought that morning and how  _ unfair _ it was that Kuroo just  _ woke up _ like that, to which Yaku, on Kuroo’s other side, commented that he hoped Bokuto meant it was unfair to Kuroo because honestly not even  _ he _ deserved to look like  _ that. _ And by Monday evening, different teams mingled at mealtimes and during their rare downtime - Karasuno bumping elbows with Fukurodani, Nekoma shoulder to shoulder with Shinzen.

The end result was that nobody looked twice when Kuroo and Bokuto disappeared off together onto the top of the hill with platefuls of food pilfered from the dining hall on Friday evening. The summer sun was hanging low in the sky, the grass was warm and soft, and, for a moment, the only noise was the cicadas buzzing in the trees as the two of them dug into their dinners.

Then, when Bokuto had finished off the first of his platefuls, he set the second one aside and steepled his fingers under his chin. “So.”

Kuroo shifted around a little. “What.”

“You  _ know _ what.”

Goddammit, he had no right to sound that smug. Kuroo dredged up the last despairing remnants of his contrariness. “I  _ don’t.” _

That was a mistake. Bokuto’s smirk turned wicked. “You  _ like _ him. You’ve got a crush on  _ Tsukishima fucking Kei-” _

“Bokuto, goddammit, shut  _ up-” _

“Can you deny it?” Bokuto asked, point-blank. Kuroo’s split second of hesitation was all the answer he needed. He cackled with delight as Kuroo buried his face in his hands.  _ “Bro. _ How long has that been a  _ thing _ for?”

“Like, literally two days,” Kuroo groaned into his palms. “Leave me alone, it’s just a stupid camp crush, okay-”

“Yeah? Even though you’re blushing when he so much as says he likes you better than Lev?”

Kuroo sighed very deeply and removed his face from his hands. “Look - it’s just - I’ve got a  _ type, _ okay? His sense of humor’s so dry it makes me  _ thirsty.” _ He fell silent for a moment, then added, “His legs, too.”

Bokuto offered his cup of water. Kuroo accepted it and took a solemn sip. “Thanks, bro.”

Bokuto shook his head in mock disappointment. “I can’t believe you’re so easily swayed by long legs. Like, you have a pair of them on your own body, dude. You see them every single day.”

“That’s different, you ass.” Kuroo purposefully spilled some of the water onto Bokuto’s shorts as he handed the cup back. “It’s not just the  _ length _ of the legs. They’re, like, shapely.”

Bokuto snickered. “Shapely?”

“Piss  _ off. _ It’s not just his legs, okay. He’s really smart, way smarter than any of the rest of us, and - have you seen the sports glasses he wears in games? They’re so  _ cool _ \- and, okay, most people probably don’t notice it but he’s smiled  _ genuinely _ a few times, like when Hinata’s doing something dorky and he thinks nobody’s watching him - it’s really cute, okay. And I - what, what are you looking at me like that for?”

Bokuto’s eyes were bright with amusement. “You’ve got it  _ bad, _ bro.”

He laughed harder as Kuroo flushed to the tips of his ears and muttered, “Oh, shut up.”

_ “Never.” _

“At least I’m not as gone as you are for Akaashi,” Kuroo shot back. “Or should I say  _ Agkakskshiiii?” _

In response, Bokuto let out a dramatic noise halfway between a wordless whine and a sigh, and collapsed backwards down onto the grass. He threw one forearm over his face, hiding his eyes as he groaned.

Kuroo snickered down at him, but his tone was completely sincere when he asked, “You really like them, huh?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto sighed wistfully. He removed his arm from his face. “Like, they’re so  _ pretty, _ you know? But it’s not just that. Like - I get really down in the dumps sometimes. Like, so bad I can hardly play.” He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “And they’re the only one on my team who ever really helps, when it happens. I don’t really know what I’m doing when they’re not there. And they’re so  _ funny, _ like they’re quiet about it but they’re really funny, and they’re always teasing me but they’re never  _ mean _ about it, you know? Like, they don’t -”

_ “Dude.” _ Kuroo nudged him with his elbow. “Go for it.”

“Aw, dude, no way.”

“Bo, come  _ on,  _ they’re definitely into you. We’ve both seen how much attention they pay you. Even off the court.”

“Yeah, but.” Bokuto chewed on his bottom lip, staring off into the sky. “I’m pretty sure that when it comes down to it, they just put up with me, you know? Cause they  _ have _ to, they’re my setter and the vice captain and stuff, and there isn’t really any other reason to want to be around me considering that I’m, well, me-”

_ “Bro,” _ Kuroo interrupted. Bokuto’s gaze flicked up to meet his, and Kuroo gathered himself up with indignancy at the despondent look in his eyes. “Listen to me. You are a beautiful beacon of energy and love and terrible owl puns. You are a joy to be around and a wonderful ball of shenanigans, and I’m so, so glad I met you a week ago because you’ve already made my life better.  _ Nobody _ would just ‘put up with you’, okay? I mean that.”

Then he let out a startled  _ oof _ as Bokuto launched himself at him, knocking him over onto the ground too. “Ack -  _ jeez, _ give a guy some  _ warning, _ you lump-” But he couldn’t keep the affection out of his voice as Bokuto squeezed him tight in a hug.

“He’s right,” said another voice - and Kuroo jumped roughly into the stratosphere. Tsukishima Kei was looking down at them with his particular cocktail of lofty disdain and detached amusement.

_ “How long have you been there?!” _ Kuroo demanded as he struggled out of Bokuto’s vice grip and frantically swiped the grass out of his hair. Silently, he prayed to every god he knew that Tsukishima hadn’t heard the first part of their conversation.

“Long enough,” said Tsukishima, which clarified exactly nothing. “Bokuto, I’ve known Akaashi much longer than you have. And trust me when I say that they appreciate your presence. They’ve changed since you’ve joined the team - they’re more talkative and more expressive, and they don’t have a stick up their ass all the time. You wouldn’t have noticed it, since you’re new, but they’re much more relaxed now.”

He paused for a moment, and then added, “Also, Akaashi doesn’t do things they don’t want to do. If they had wanted to go to bed instead of practicing more with you in the evenings this week, they would’ve.”

Then he looked down and caught sight of Bokuto’s bright, wet eyes. “Oh, God. Please don’t cry, I’d have to get Yamaguchi or Onaga to deal with that-”

“That - that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Bokuto sniffled, carelessly interrupting his senpai. “Tsukishima, you’re really a nice guy, aren’t you?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Tsukishima said immediately.  _ “Bokuto-” _

But it was too late - Bokuto was already lunging for his long legs, knocking him down onto the grass like a startled praying mantis. Tsukishima managed to land in a sitting position while Bokuto rolled off to the side, but he still looked disgruntled.  _ “Ugh.” _

“Did you just come out here to interfere in Bokuto’s love life?” Kuroo asked, to divert his attention from Tsukishima’s legs.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Tsukishima deadpanned. “Your captain asked me to check up on you two, since you were all the way out here. He said he would’ve come himself, but he has his hands full with Lev - oh.” Tsukishima had caught sight of a long, lanky figure just outside the doors of the dining hall at the base of the hill. “Never mind. He escaped.” His lip curled up in disgust. “Oh, and Hinata is there too now. That’s unpleasant.”

_ “Hinata?!” _ Bokuto exclaimed. He sat up too, not bothering to remove the grass bits from his rigid hairstyle. “Where’s Hinata? I love Hinata! Let’s go see Hinata.”

Abruptly, Kuroo was struck with overwhelming pride. He patted Bokuto’s back a few times to express it. “You’ve come pretty far this week, bro.”

“Thanks!” Bokuto pushed himself off down the hill, rolling sideways through the grass and leaving Kuroo alone with Tsukishima at the top of the hill.

Kuroo watched him roll to a halt at Hinata’s feet, spring up from the ground, and immediately start rambling away to the third-year next to Lev. Their faint voices floated up the slope, and, within a few moments, the doors to the dining hall opened again, to Akaashi hurrying out to chastise the group for their noise.

Kuroo glanced over at Tsukishima out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have heard anything he shouldn’t have - he didn’t look fidgety or pensive, just amused by the group of their friends, in his usual vaguely condescending way.

Then again, Tsukishima pretty much always looked like that. Kuroo ripped up a chunk of grass from the ground to distract himself from his thoughts. At the bottom of the hill, Akaashi turned to go back inside, but was caught by the back of their shirt by Lev, who drew them neatly back into the circle. Bokuto was bouncing around Hinata like an enthusiastic puppy.

“Do you think he realizes he’s chosen a role model just as airheaded as he is?” Tsukishima asked idly.

Kuroo hummed noncommittally, hesitant to condemn a third-year but silently agreeing.

“It’s amazing, really,” Tsukishima went on. “I’ve known Hinata for three years, and I think he’s actually  _ lost _ brain cells.”

Kuroo wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them up against his chest. “Bokuto’s smart about  _ some _ things.”

Tsukishima turned to him and raised a single eyebrow. (Kuroo was instantly filled with jealousy - he’d always wanted to be able to do that.) “Like…?”

_ Like my huge, dumb crush. _ “Like… People. He’s good at people.”

“At irritating them?”

Kuroo huffed a half-laugh. “No, no, he’s - he gets how people work, most of the time. He’s really blunt about it, but he’s so insecure that he pays a lot of attention to what people think and to not hurting them.”

He glanced over to see Tsukishima studying him carefully. “That’s… Very generous of you.”

“I’m always this kind,” Kuroo explained.

Tsukishima smirked - and Kuroo’s eyes caught on the dimple in his left cheek, the unexpected strawberry-blonde of his hair under the slow sunset. “Sure, sure.”

Kuroo shifted around in place.  _ “Don’t look at me like that.” _

Tsukishima leaned back onto the grass, propping himself up on his elbows. “Like what?”

“Like-”  _ Is he  _ flirting _ with me?! _ “Like you think I’m full of shit.”

“When you’re that sincere in your praise of Bokuto, it’s hard to believe you’re being serious.”

“I  _ am. _ He’s kind- of like Kenma in some ways, actually.” Kuroo fell silent for a moment, then remembered to add, “Don’t tell him I was complimenting him, though. He’ll never shut up about it.”

Tsukishima snickered into his hand. “If you insist. Oh - he’s coming back up here now. Well, it was nice while it lasted.”

Did Tsukishima mean the peace and quiet? Or did he mean being alone with Kuroo? It was no use dwelling on it. Kuroo let go of his legs with one arm to wave to the oncoming Bokuto. “Hey, bro.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto bounded up the hill with all the enviable energy of someone who hadn’t had to do sprints up it more than once a day that week. “What are you guys talking about?”

“How stupid you are,” Kuroo told him.

Bokuto frowned. “You are  _ not.” _ Behind him, Akaashi and Lev and Hinata were making their way up at a slightly slower pace.

“We are,” Tsukishima affirmed.

“Come on, it’s not like we even have any more matches this week!” Bokuto protested. “You guys have no reason to shit-talk anymore!”

“We don’t really need an excuse,” Kuroo mused, and Tsukishima nodded in agreement.

“You can’t  _ gang up on me!” _

“But we can,” Tsukishima explained with a smile. “You just make it so easy, see.”

Kuroo started laughing outright at that, and Tsukishima snickered along with him at Bokuto’s indignant huff. Bokuto dropped back down to sit next to Kuroo anyway, though, and Kuroo nudged him in the side. “Love you, bro.”

Bokuto grumbled, but he rested his head on Kuroo’s shoulder for a moment in return as the rest of the group reached the top of the hill and settled down around them.

* * *

_ Saturday _

“You’re  _ sure _ you have my number in right?”

It was the fourth time Bokuto had asked the same question in as many minutes, but Kuroo opened up Bokuto’s brand-new contact in his phone anyway to show him that the number was correct. “I got you covered, bro.”

Bokuto examined the screen closely, then nodded in approval and handed the phone back to Kuroo. “Alright. Text me as soon as you’re on the bus, okay?”

“Sure thing, bro.” Kuroo patted him on the shoulder. “We gotta plan that sleepover. For trying out different hairstyles,” he added - mostly for the benefit of Akaashi, who was standing off to the side next to Tsukishima.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi cut in, looking more constipated by the minute, “Kuroo is going to _miss_ _his bus_ if you two don’t hurry up your goodbyes.”

“Okay, okay!” Bokuto wrapped Kuroo in one of his signature bone-crushing hugs. Then he released him and went to hug Hinata, who gave back as good as he got, ruffling Bokuto’s hair for good measure. Once they separated, Hinata attempted to hug Tsukishima despite the fact that they were going to the same place. Tsukishima made use of his longer arms to fend him off with practiced ease (Kuroo made a mental note to use the same advantage on Yaku), while Bokuto had even less success attempting to glom onto an unwilling Akaashi.

“Bokuto, we’re just going to get right onto the same bus,” they pointed out.

Bokuto stopped attempting to get his arms around Akaashi, but fixed them with a massive pout. Akaashi met it for a moment, and then sighed.

“…We can hug once we’re on the bus.”

Bokuto let out a loud whoop and bolted off towards the parking lot. Akaashi sighed, but there was a near-imperceptible smile on their face as they nodded to the rest of the group and followed.

And then Hinata turned to Lev, and the temperature dropped like a rock. A dangerous shadow fell over Hinata’s eyes, and Kuroo backed off a few steps on instinct as the air between the two aces crackled.

“At nationals-” Lev began.

“We’ll be there,” Hinata cut him off. “And we’re going to win.”

Lev’s eyes gleamed in pale green slits. His lips curled upwards, smile disquieting in its toothy wideness.

_ “Bring it on.” _

Then Tsukishima jostled Hinata’s shoulder with his elbow, and the tension was broken as Hinata glanced up at him. “Hey, you’re talking like you’re not going to see him again until January. You know we have more weekend camps together, right? And practice matches between that.” Hinata opened his mouth, Tsukishima just kept talking. “I know it’s the vice captain’s job to keep track of these things, and it’s not your fault you were born with a muscle instead of a brain, but-”

“Oh, shut  _ up!” _ Hinata glared up at him and shook his elbow off his shoulder. “You’re such a  _ dick, Tsukishima!” _

He stormed off in the direction of the dorms, and Tsukishima watched him go with a tranquil smile on his face. Then, he turned to Lev. “And, as for you, doesn’t Nekoma have one more gym to clean up?”

“No,” Lev said instantly.

Tsukishima studied him for a moment, then lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s fine if you want to keep your whole team here all night. It makes no difference to me.”

Lev heaved an exaggerated sigh - but sure enough, he loped off towards the far gym. Tsukishima was left alone with Kuroo on the asphalt of the walk outside the third gym.

“He doesn’t even listen to our  _ own _ vice captain like that,” Kuroo muttered. Shibayama’s life would be a lot easier if he did.

Tsukishima barked a laugh. In his unzipped black jacket and the afternoon sunlight, he looked like an elegant blonde telephone pole. “Lev is easy. You’ll figure him out eventually.”

“He’s a lot like Hinata, isn’t he?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima nodded, smirk still lingering around the corners of his mouth. “They’re like wind-up toys. You just point them in one direction and watch them go.”

Kuroo snickered at that. “Don’t forget about Bokuto.”

“It really boggles the mind,” Tsukishima mused, “that we managed to bring three of the stupidest people at this training camp into our practice sessions.” And there was something about the way  _ we _ and  _ our _ sounded in Tsukishima’s voice -, like he and Kuroo were part of something together. Like he was letting Kuroo in on a secret.

“He really  _ is _ smart about some things,” Kuroo allowed. “He just… Moves faster than he thinks most of the time.”

“Well,  _ someone _ seems to find it rather endearing, at least,” Tsukishima offered, nodding in the direction that the Fukurodani team had gone off in.

Right. Akaashi, and their constant presence around Bokuto, and their ill-fated protectiveness over his hair, and that tiniest of smiles they’d had on their face when they left.

“Do you think it’s weird?” Kuroo wondered aloud. “That they’re going to date when Bokuto’s so much younger?”

His voice was very carefully casual, but Tsukishima’s piercing stare made Kuroo feel as though the other boy could  _ hear _ his heart hammering away inside his chest. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I mean, like - I know they’re only a year apart in school, but Akaashi’s a lot more mature, so it counts, and it’s enough of a difference that some people might think it’s strange, and so I was wondering-”

“You’re babbling,” Tsukishima cut him off. Kuroo stopped short, face heating up.

There really was no hiding anything from him.

But Tsukishima didn’t make fun of him. Instead, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and continued, “You know, I won’t be here next year.” Kuroo nodded. “Or the year after, when you’re a third-year.” Another nod - and Kuroo’s imagination bounded ahead towards a future where he and Yaku and Kai worked together like a machine, cogs and screws fitting together perfectly after years of morning practices and hard training camps and victory sleepovers .

“But there’s still time now,” Kuroo pressed, words spilling out from the heart-flutter of things unsaid but still revealed. “Months. We could-”

“No, that’s not-” Tsukishima caught hold of one hand with the other and twisted his fingers together, then released them so he could rub the back of his neck. “God. I didn’t ever think I’d be getting a confession behind the gym  _ here _ of all places,” he muttered.

“Do you get them a lot at home?” Kuroo asked.

“I’ve never said yes to any of them, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Tsukishima responded. Kuroo squirmed a little in embarrassment. “And as for this one - well-”

“I’m willing to wait,” Kuroo interrupted.

And it was a gesture of pure faith, a gamble on four days of training camp chemistry. But maybe, maybe,  _ maybe _ \- if Kuroo’s blind hope held true-

“Then wait,” Tsukishima told him, and Kuroo’s breath rushed out of him all at once.

_ Yes, yes, yes- _

“There’s three more training camps this year, and then Nationals, if we both make it,” Tsukishima continued. “And after that, I’ll be coming back to watch my kouhais’ games, and as long as you and Yaku and Kai aren’t useless, Nekoma will meet Karasuno at Nationals again.”

Out behind the third gym on a hot Saturday in July, Tsukishima laid out the future in precise, matter-of-fact maybes. Visits to Tsukishima’s cramped college dorm room. Train rides to two years’ hence Nekoma. Drives through Miyagi in a beat-up old car with the windows down and the music up. Concerts and cafes and Tokyo late at night.

“Not now,” Tsukishima said at last, as Kuroo’s head whirled with possibilities. “Not even soon. Not for a long time. But if you can wait-”

“I can wait,” Kuroo agreed faintly.

“Nekoma still needs to finish cleaning,” Tsukishima prompted him, impossibly gentle. It was a clear dismissal.

But his voice held a promise.

Kuroo floated towards the last gym six inches above the ground.

As he drifted inside, the rest of his team was busily cleaning. Kai greeted him with a wave, and Lev called out, “Hey, Kuroo!”

“Nice of you to show up,” Yaku drawled from where he was pushing a broom around the floor of the gym. Kuroo just flapped a vague hand at him, still too dreamy to retort. Yaku paused, brow furrowing a bit. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Kuroo blinked himself back into focus. “Sorry. What are we doing?”

“Tying up loose ends,” Yaku said. “Camp’s almost over, but we still have to finish up cleaning.”

“Oh.” Kuroo shook his head a few times and came the rest of the way back down to earth. “What should I do?”

Yaku shrugged. “I don’t need any help sweeping or anything. Go ask Inuoka-san.”

Just then, Inuoka beckoned Kuroo over towards him. “Can you help roll up the nets? We’re just finishing up cleaning up here and then we’re going to head out, and - Lev, where are you going?”

Lev froze halfway through the doorway out of the gym. “Um… More practice?”

Inuoka examined his ace for two beats, and then huffed a sigh. “Yaku?”

Yaku looked up. “Yeah?”

“Lev doesn’t want to help clean up the gym. What do you think of that?”

Yaku carefully leaned his broom against the wall of the gym, cracked his knuckles slow and deliberate, and then took one step towards his senpai. “Lev-”

Lev bolted for it.

Unfortunately, his long legs were no match for the speed of the little libero’s condensed rage. Roughly five minutes later, Lev was pushing the cart around the gym and collecting the scattered volleyballs around the edges. Periodically, he snuck glances over his shoulder to check if Yaku’s stern eyes were still boring a hole in his back. They were.

“Three years,” Inuoka muttered to himself.  _ “Three years _ we’ve been trying to figure out how to handle Lev, and this five-foot-nothing first-year has him eating out of his hand-”

“Sou-kun,  _ don’t jinx it,” _ Shibayama hissed at him, and Inuoka shut up.

* * *

_ Two Weeks Later… _

“No way, they’re making you  _ change _ your  _ hair?” _ Kuroo rolled over onto his stomach on Bokuto’s bed, resting his chin on his friend’s pillow. “That’s bullshit, bro.”

“Well…” Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. On the dresser in front of him, there stood an impressive array of gels and sprays. “They’re not  _ making _ me do it, but they did say that they thought I looked like a great horned owl. And I want Akaashi to like how I look!”

Kuroo snorted. “Looking like a great horned owl isn’t a  _ bad _ thing, bro. And even if it were, if Tsukishima told me to change my hair for him, I’d make it even worse on purpose.”

“Yeah, but you and Tsukishima aren’t  _ dating!” _

“Not  _ yet,” _ Kuroo countered. “As good as.”

“Whatever! It’s not like you  _ can _ change your hair anyway.”

“And it’s not like you  _ have _ to change yours,” Kuroo pointed out.

“Yeah, but I  _ want _ to! Dammit, I’m gonna figure this out.” Bokuto picked up the most expensive of the gels and clenched his free fist in determination. “I’m gonna figure it out.”

While Bokuto went into the bathroom to mess with his hair, Kuroo opened his phone’s front camera - the lockscreen told him that it was nearly two in the morning, a perfect time for making bad decisions - and peered closely at his reflection.

“Hey, d’you think I should start wearing glasses?” he called to Bokuto.

“Your vision’s perfect, isn’t it?” came Bokuto’s voice from the bathroom. “And wouldn’t they get in the way when you played?”

“Yeah, but I’d look so much  _ cooler…” _ Kuroo tilted the phone from one side to another, furrowing his brow.

Bokuto snorted as he came back out. “Bull  _ shit. _ You just want to look like Tsukishima, cause you think he’s such a  _ cool senpai- _ what are you looking at me like that for?”

Bokuto’s hair was styled into a careful tousle virtually identical to that of one redheaded Karasuno middle blocker. He frowned at Kuroo’s incredulous stare. “What? Does it look bad?  _ Why are you staring at me like that-” _

Kuroo sighed. “Nothing, nothing-”

“It looks terrible,” Bokuto said instantly. “It looks terrible and this was a horrible mistake-”

“It looks fine, Bo. C’mon, wash it out and let’s get to bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> IF U LIKED THIS promo posts are on my [tumblr](http://vivasimplemindedness.tumblr.com/post/146769482958/one-more-time-loud-as-you-can) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/dickaeopolis/status/748995472568807424) ^^;


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